


Failed Hermit

by aranunu



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Autistic Character, F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Humanstuck, Isolation, Misunderstandings, Quarantine, autistic aranea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aranunu/pseuds/aranunu
Summary: Aranea, currently out of work, had taken the advice of social isolation a bit too seriously. And now it had bitten her in the ass.
Relationships: Latula Pyrope/Aranea Serket
Kudos: 6





	Failed Hermit

**Author's Note:**

> first fic here, please be nice

Somehow, you feel alone.

Weren’t you advised to socially distance yourself?

Distancing yourself was your spiel- nobody particularly liked you before and sometimes the world was too much for you. Not only was the world hostile towards you and your quirks, but the world was also the purveyor of many, many pleasant things in life. Like the bird’s singing, the breeze in your hair, and the smell of grass.

But now, you were advised to stay at home. Your bookstore was deemed not essential and you were sent home. Your coworker was kind enough to drive you home and comfort you on the way there, as the sudden announcement had shaken you up. And after latula had comforted you, you had closed yourself off in your room, only to go out for food or bathroom breaks and a shower.

The only light comes from the curtains. Everything else is darkness. It’s your preferred environment for closing off and recharging after sensory overloads, meltdowns or burnouts and it makes you feel right at home. You are cocooned and curled up in your weighted blanket, listening to your breathing and an occasional car from the outside. Yet somehow, this feels wrong. You want to have Latula beside you, but you need to distance yourself. It’s what had been advised to you.

“Aranea!” she calls out. Your breath stops. Your heart starts to beat. No. you can’t come out. You’re supposed to not talk to anyone. She can’t come-

“Come on, you can’t close yourself off like that for no reason.” the doorknob creaks, the hinges squeak, she calmly walks in and you curl up in bed.  _ The noise, the noise!  _ You think, but oh no, she is approaching you and you scoot closer to the wall. She can’t touch you! But you want her to! But the isolation-

“What’s wrong?” Latula asks you, sitting down beside you. You can feel some sweat on your back. You stare at her like a scared animal, breathing quiet but fast. She can’t come closer. She can’t. “I don’t know,” you mumble, softening up. You feel odd guilt from looking at her. Latula’s eyebrows are furrowing, but her eyes look scared. She must’ve been worried sick. 

“Is it the quarantine?” she asks, laying down beside you. You want to go further up the wall, but you can’t. You nod quickly. Something is nagging you to cuddle up beside her, but you keep telling yourself about isolating and distance but despite that, you scoot over to her. 

It feels like heaven. You forgot how much you’ve missed being next to her. You forgot how soft her skin was and the sound of her heartbeat as you laid your head on her chest. An occasional hair strand tickles your nose and you huff in response. You nuzzle the crook of her neck and exhale calmly. Suddenly, your paranoia isn’t acting up. You close your eyes and swallow despite a knot in your throat and your eyes have started to tear up. You pull your hands out of your cocoon and hug Latula, the same way you usually do when she had returned from a trip. Tight, so strong and the way you can feel your muscles flex as you squeeze her.

She laughs softly and hugs back, and it sends you over the edge. You start sobbing, hiccuping as you hold onto her like she was leaving forever. You missed her. You cry into her neck and mumble apologies, feeling naive for having to follow rules for the quarantine. It happened again. You always follow the instructions to the t. 

“It’s okay bubba, it’s okay,” she whispers, running her fingers through your hair, “I know how much you missed me. I missed you too, but you didn’t have to do it like that!”   
  
“Then how was I suppose to do it!?” you snap, “It was said to not interact with anyone!” Suddenly, it makes you feel stupid. You realize that it wasn’t like that. “Fuck!” you yell and continue sobbing like a desperate child.

“Look,” Latula sighed and pulls your arms away from her and sits up, “Social isolation doesn’t mean that you have to not interact with me. It just means that if you feel unwell to not go out anywhere and to stay at home as much as possible!” 

You lay beside her, still sobbing- you have never explained to what the rules meant. If you were just told to stay at home you wouldn’t have closed yourself off completely. Isolating yourself was a thing you did well- too well it seems. “I… I’m gonna play Animal Crossing in the living room, come out when you feel better,” Latula says, and you notice that she’s smiling softly. You nod and whimper out an “okay.” She gets off the bed and into the living room. You bury your head into the pillow and start to cry.

**~~~**

You pull a hoodie onto your body. You have recovered from your crying fit and your eyes are still a little bit wet. You brush off some stray tears and take a deep breath in. Your head feels clearer, and you timidly walk out of your room. You see Latula reclining on the sofa, and the TV is showing her character running around. Little her is carrying a net and going around catching bugs. You smile shyly when she looks up to you. “‘Sup?” she asks you with a smile, “Any better?” 

“A little bit,” you swallow and you walk over to the sofa. She moves her legs so you can sit down, and puts them in your lap when you sit down. You exhale a laugh as you look at her focusing on the TV. She always sticks her tongue out as she works on her controller. And she looks at you with a grin, “Missed me?” 

“A lot,” you say.


End file.
